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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217757">Ambition Knows No Bounds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicallyLyss/pseuds/serpentcorelyss'>serpentcorelyss (CosmicallyLyss)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Feels, Cheating, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Daishou moved away at age 6 and reconnected at age 16, Ex Best Friends, M/M, Moving Away, Physical Abuse, Reunions, and daishou is 5'7, burn scars, daishou and kuroo are second years, kuroo is 6'1, not in a relationship but in a volleyball game</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:35:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217757</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicallyLyss/pseuds/serpentcorelyss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>(reposting all hq works under a different pseud)</p><p>" Daishou continued to scan the team, and his gaze stopped when he looked at Nekoma’s number eight. Registered exactly who he was. He’d know those hazel eyes anywhere. The messy, midnight black hair that made him look like a damn rooster. The tenacious smile on his face. Kuroo Tetsurou… A name Daishou hadn’t thought of in years. A face Daishou hadn’t seen for even longer. He averted his gaze quickly before he had the chance of making eye contact with Kuroo. God… He’d certainly grown up since the last time Daishou had seen him. But that was to be expected. After all, Daishou had moved out of Kuroo’s neighborhood at age six, and here he was ten years later seeing his childhood best friend for the first time. "</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daishou Suguru/Kuroo Tetsurou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ambition Knows No Bounds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is my favorite kuroshou fic i think i've ever wrote haha</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daishou had first cheated in a match as a high school first year. He’d been a benchwarmer despite his talent - the current Nohebi valued seniority over talent, and it irritated Daishou to no end. He wasn’t an ace, he wasn’t star player material just yet. He’d only got put in the game because his upperclassman had sprained his ankle after landing wrong from a spike. When Daishou had stepped on the court, he was playing well - better than just <em>well </em>- and in his mind, he was proving himself to the coach who kept him benched. The opposing team had targeted him often towards the beginning, clearly underestimating the 5’7 boy. It both pissed Daishou off and made him excited. He’d get to show the bastardous rivals he wasn’t some scrawny kid to pick on. He held his own amazingly, only letting a few points skip through his fingers. At least, until a spike came flying in his direction that he knew he couldn’t dig.</p><p>Time seemed to slow almost completely to a stop. Daishou had been watching the ball fall in slow motion, knowing he needed to at least <em>try </em>to receive it but unable to move his body. The ball had looked like it might be going out of bounds. Daishou had been keenly aware of all the eyes on him. Spectators, his teammates, his opponents, the referees… <em>The referees. </em>Daishou remembered how he’d gasped, his heart pounding as he threw himself towards the back line of the court. Twisting, shifting, stretching until it hurt just to get that extra centimeter… The ball had bounced on the line. The ball was in bounds. It should have been a point for the rivals. But the referees’ view of the ball had been blocked by Daishou, so they considered it out. It had been ruled as Nohebi’s point. A point scored dishonestly, but a point nonetheless.</p><p>Daishou had felt eyes on him again. The eyes of his teammates: eyes of shock, eyes of disbelief, of disappointment and bewilderment… They knew what he’d done. Everyone knew, but nobody said anything. So if Daishou would be criticized after the match, he’d have the reasoning of <em>‘you didn’t confess, so you’re just as bad as me.’ </em>to back him up. They had been upset with Daishou, but the green-haired boy couldn’t understand why. His game sense had evolved right before his eyes. He was becoming a stronger player. He was becoming powerful. And the point Daishou caused them to earn had brought Nohebi to set point! If they won the set, they could keep playing. The score had been 1-0 in favor of the rivals; Daishou <em>needed </em>to win. And win they did, the final point of the set scored by their ace. Daishou continued to play in the final set, and Nohebi had ended up winning the game. Daishou hadn’t felt the need to cheat his way into a point during the set. After they had left the court to have a team talk, his teammates had all fixed him with varied expressions. There was disgust, there was disappointment, there was admiration, there was confusion, there was shock. Both the coach and the captain had been the most upset with Daishou. The captain had asked to speak to him one on one. “Why did you do it?” He had said. He was angry. “We could have won the point in an honest way.”</p><p>“I needed to break up their momentum.” Daishou had to crane his neck up to look at his captain with a furrowed brow. His 5’7 stature was no match for his captain’s 6’4. “We weren’t good enough to win with the playing we were doing. I wanted to win, captain. I did everything in my power to give us that win! We’re going further in the tournament and that should be the most important thing!”</p><p>“I’m disappointed in you, Suguru.” The captain’s lips had been pressed into a thin white line. Daishou hissed at the use of his given name. “A point scored dishonestly is an immoral point.”</p><p>“You said you wanted to talk to me.” Daishou had spat. “Not scold me.”</p><p>“There’s nothing to talk about!” The captain was getting exasperated. “You need to realize you made a mistake.”</p><p>“Playing to the best of my ability isn’t a mistake!” Daishou had started to breathe heavily, symptoms of an oncoming anxiety attack starting to flare up. “If you can’t support my game sense evolving, if you can’t praise me for learning another way to score points, you’re a bad captain! I helped us win! We <em>won </em>! You and the other third years get to play more. If-” Daishou was shaking, the edges of his vision starting to blur. “If not for me, you might not have gotten to play another game! I did this for the team!”</p><p>“You need to calm down, Daishou…” Nohebi’s captain had muttered. “We can talk when we get back to the school. He had started to walk away, and Daishou’s face burned red with fury. Why couldn’t he understand? People - <em>players </em>- should be doing anything they possibly can to win. Winning was important. Progressing was important. If you’re not the best, you’re worthless. That philosophy had been drilled into his mind by his parents once he started getting serious about volleyball in middle school.</p><p>“Hey, captain!” Daishou yelled across the corridor. His fists were clenched at his sides, balled up so tightly they were shaking. “Ambition knows no bounds!”</p><p>When they’d returned to Nohebi Academy, the captain had made good on his word. He talked to Daishou for an hour in the hopes that the reasons for why cheating was wrong would get through to him. It didn’t work. In the next year, Nohebi went through a period of great change. Of course, the third years graduated. Nohebi got a new coach, one - who after talking to Daishou for half an hour - who understood Daishou’s strategy and why he did what he did. Daishou became a second year and he was put on the starting lineup by the new coach. Daishou never stopped cheating. And he got <em>better </em>at it after a year of perfecting it. Be sweet to everyone, get the crowd and the referees on your side, then cheat your way into a point when the other team is going to score. Like a snake camouflaging itself in its surroundings and striking when the moment is right, sinking its fangs into its prey. Killing it. Daishou’s ambition never stopped, either. It increased exponentially, and it made him a formidable opponent. There was nobody who wanted to win more than Daishou. Not the captain or the rest of the third years, but Daishou, who’d work himself to the bone until he passed out. His coach had a problem with that, though - understandably - so Daishou only practiced to the point of blacking out on Nohebi’s rest days.</p><p>Amidst all the change, though, there was something that remained constant. Daishou’s height. He was still 5’7, the shortest member in Nohebi’s starting lineup aside from their third year libero, so he felt even more of a need to prove himself. He wasn’t excelling in the height department, so he needed to become flawless in every other aspect of volleyball. Nohebi had a game today - some Nohebi players were saying it wasn’t important since this wasn’t the tournament that decided which Tokyo teams were going to Nationals, and Daishou wanted to smack all of them - and Daishou was buzzing with excitement. He hadn’t passed out during training for the past four days, which was a record for him in recent months. Despite his unhealthy training regimen, he looked good. In his eyes. He was all hard muscle under his uniform, though it was unexpected due to his slim build. He ate well, so there weren’t any issues in that department. Daishou was good at taking care of himself in that way. He ate well, he took his anxiety medication daily, he got at least six hours of sleep a night. It was just practicing that he went too hard on.</p><p>The bus ride was pretty quiet with some of the other team members trying to get some more rest. Daishou’s two best friends, Hiroo Kouji and Numai Kazuma, were both asleep and using his shoulders as pillows. Daishou was running over their first match in his head. What tricks could he use against his opponents? What were his rivals’ strengths? Their weaknesses? Daishou had tried to do as much research as possible on the team the night before. Nekoma, they were called, and they seemed to excel at defense. Their libero was a second year named Yaku Morisuke, and he was one of the most talented young men in the position throughout Japan, let alone just Tokyo. Daishou only knew one other name from the team, a first year named Yamamoto Taketora who was their up-and-coming ace. Daishou couldn’t help but be excited. Nekoma was strong, sure, but Nohebi would beat them in straight sets. They’d declaw the little kittens and wipe the floor with them.</p><p>It was game time before he knew it, and Daishou was standing at his end of the court, scoping out his competition. He saw Yaku standing proudly, white uniform with a number six on it standing out amongst all the red. He caught the shorter boy’s eyes and gave him a respectful nod. Daishou always acknowledged talented people who he considered good competition. Yaku nodded back with a small smile. Daishou continued to scan the team, and his gaze stopped when he looked at Nekoma’s number eight. Registered <em>exactly </em>who he was. He’d know those hazel eyes anywhere. The messy, midnight black hair that made him look like a damn rooster. The tenacious smile on his face. Kuroo Tetsurou… A name Daishou hadn’t thought of in years. A face Daishou hadn’t seen for even longer. He averted his gaze quickly before he had the chance of making eye contact with Kuroo. God… He’d certainly grown up since the last time Daishou had seen him. But that was to be expected. After all, Daishou had moved out of Kuroo’s neighborhood at age six, and here he was ten years later seeing his childhood best friend for the first time. His initial reaction was an itchy sort of fear, and he then mentally kicked himself for feeling that way. Daishou’s ex-best friend being on the opposing team meant nothing. If anything, Daishou would play harder. Stronger. He had one more person to prove his success to, and it was someone who knew him personally. Someone who had seen him at one of the worst points of his life. Daishou’s early childhood years, ages four through six, had left him with lasting trauma - he wasn’t on anxiety medication for no reason - and it was something that Kuroo had always helped him cope with before they even knew what coping was. When he’d go over to Kuroo’s for a playdate, the black-haired boy would treat the deep scratches left on Daishou’s arms by his older sister before they started any games. That was probably where the discomfort Daishou was feeling came from. The memories of his sister - someone who’d physically abused him until Daishou was thirteen, she was eighteen, and she left the house for college - were associated with Kuroo.</p><p>“Coach?” Daishou had stepped out of the team circle to speak privately with his coach, a man who had become a father figure to Daishou since he started to coach Nohebi. “After the first rally, have someone sub out with me.” The coach was about to question why, but Daishou just kept talking. “There’s someone over there who reminds me of my childhood and it’s making my anxiety spike. I won’t play at my best if I don’t take a few rallies to calm down.”</p><p>“I understand, Suguru.” The coach put a comforting hand on Daishou’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you for knowing yourself. I know you want to play as long as possible; this is a mature decision.”</p><p>“I want to win.” Daishou corrected as he started to walk onto the court. “If taking a breather helps me do it, then that’s what I’ll do.” The first rally started with Nekoma having serving rights. It was a strong serve, nothing fancy like a jump floater or jump serve, but it had power behind it nonetheless. Nohebi’s libero scooped it up like nothing, though, and sent it to their setter with ease. Daishou made eye contact with his teammate, and started to set himself up to hit it. He was in the air, soaring as much as a 5’7 boy could, and watching everything unfold in slow motion. The ball was coming his way, he was in perfect form, and- Kuroo was right in front of him, hands up to block his spike. Golden eyes hard with concentration that softened in surprise when he realized that the spiker in front of him was none other than Daishou Suguru. Daishou’s stomach was churning in fear, a wave of nausea crashing over him. When he saw Kuroo, he saw him six years old again. Treating Daishou’s wounds with a smile. He saw his sister ripping off the bandages Kuroo had so carefully placed on his skin. When the ball was right in front of him, Daishou hit it with an anguished yell. It wasn’t a powerful spike at all. It was a feint, and it was one that scored a point. That’s right. Daishou had scored the first point of the match. He’d won the first battle of many. He won over Kuroo. Over his sister. Over his memories. He whipped his head around to look back at his coach, a silent plea of <em>‘please let me stay in the game’ </em>. Coach nodded with a smile.</p><p>Although Nohebi didn’t win in straight sets, they still took the victory from Nekoma. Daishou’s cheating and dirty tactics had given Nohebi six points out of the 73 total points they scored in the match. He’d also won honest points - Daishou was a talented player, he didn’t only know how to cheat - eleven of them to be exact. Nohebi was cheering as they walked off the court after shaking hands with the Nekoma boys, clapping each other on the back and singing each other’s praises.</p><p>“Hey, kid,” The coach said as he came up behind Daishou. “Talk to me when we get back, yeah? I wanna hear about who that kid was.”</p><p>“Yes, coach.” Daishou nodded frantically, still filled to the brim with the adrenaline rush that came from winning. They had one more match in a few hours, so they had ample time to cool down, eat a little something, and start warming up again. “I’m gonna go get something to eat.”</p><p>“Not too much, alright?” The coach smiled gently. “I can’t have my upcoming star player get sick on me.”</p><p>“You got it, boss.” Daishou was grinning. “I’ll make sure to stay at my best so I can win the next match, too.” And with that, he left, heading towards the venue’s cafeteria. The walk wasn’t long, but he didn’t get to complete it. A hand grabbed the back of his tracksuit and spun him around harshly. Daishou was instantly plunged back into his younger years, flinching as his hands came up to protect his face. Daishou’s head had started swimming, and it took him around a minute before he was fully back to reality. Kuroo was staring down at him - by quite a few inches - no discernable expression on his face.</p><p>“Come with me,” Kuroo’s voice was flat. The sparkle had left his golden eyes, making them look a dull bronze. “Let’s catch up.”</p><p>“Um-” Daishou had started to stammer, still taken aback by the sudden movements. “Why?”</p><p>“We’re old friends, right?” Kuroo’s voice was still monotonous and it was making Daishou uncomfortable. “Consider this a reunion.”</p><p>“Alright, I guess.”Daishou had broken the eye contact, averting his gaze to the floor. “Where are we going?”</p><p>“Just follow me.” Kuroo stated. As Daishou walked a few paces behind Kuroo, the pit in his stomach couldn’t help but grow. The air around him seemed to grow foreboding and cold, and he shivered, zipping up his tracksuit jacket to alleviate the chill. Kuroo had led him to an empty hallway, away from the eyes and ears of everyone else. It was quiet, secluded. Daishou couldn’t decide if he liked that or not. He stared up at Kuroo, waiting for him to start a conversation. Kuroo chose to lead off with “You’re a piece of shit.”</p><p>“Excuse me?” Daishou’s practiced defenses were raised instantly. No show of any emotion except confidence. He was better than whoever was trying to break him down. He <em>had </em>to be better.</p><p>“I said you’re a piece of shit.” Kuroo repeated. “A filthy liar, a dirty fucking cheat.” Kuroo was glaring down at Daishou, the six inch height difference making him look imposing. “Your team didn’t deserve to win, not when you cheated your way through half your points.”</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kuroo.” Daishou spoke flatly. “You saw our banner, ‘fair and square’, right? That’s how we play.”</p><p>“That’s how <em>they </em>play. I don’t doubt your team are good guys. But you? Horrid. Abhorrent. Disgusting. B-”</p><p>“Are you done with the synonyms?”</p><p>“Fuck you.” Kuroo spat. “I noticed what you were doing the first time it happened. Blocking the referee’s view of the ball? You’d really stoop that low? And what if we had cameras? Refs on every corner of the court?”</p><p>“You were watching me that closely, huh?” Arrogance crept its way into Daishou’s tone.</p><p>“You’re not special, I have my eyes on every opponent.” Kuroo was seething. “Now answer me.”</p><p>“If you want me to answer your questions so badly, ask one at a time.” Daishou was counting his breathing patterns in his head, whispering <em>calm down, calm down </em>to himself.</p><p>“I can’t believe you…” Kuroo was shaking his head with a grimace on his face. “I see you again after ten goddamn years and you turn out like this?”</p><p>“I still don’t know what you’re talking about. I” Daishou was cut off by Kuroo grabbing the front of his tracksuit and slamming him harshly against the wall. As his back hit the wall with a near sickening thud, Daishou bent his head down and covered the nape of his neck with his hands. <em>Protect yourself, protect yourself, protect yourself…</em></p><p>“I’d love to know what happened to the little kid that moved away. Where did he go?” Kuroo’s height disparity seemed to increase as Daishou curled in on himself, shaking. “What made you turn out like this? You valued truth and honesty above <em>everything </em>else as a kid! What skewed your morals so terribly?”</p><p>“Ambition isn’t amoral.” Daishou’s voice was nothing more than a whisper. He was answering the question for himself, not for Kuroo.</p><p>“What the hell, Daishou? This shyness? That’s not you!” There was anger in his eyes, but that wasn’t the only feeling present. “Where’s my childhood best friend?”</p><p>At that final question, Daishou exploded. His hands shot out to push Kuroo away from him, making the taller boy stumble back a few feet. “He’s gone, Kuroo. Everything about him is gone. He wasn’t strong enough to survive, he wasn’t strong enough to win. So I got rid of him. He’s got no place in my family.”</p><p>“Your family…” Kuroo mumbled under his breath. “How are your parents? How is-” Daishou’s mind was screaming <em>don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t- </em>“-your sister?”</p><p>“How fucking dare you.” Daishou’s voice had dropped in pitch drastically. Tears had sprung up in his eyes, and he found it difficult to talk around the lump in his throat. “You drag me off into privacy only so you can insult my character, and then you bring <em>her </em>up in the one-sided conversation? Maybe I’m a cheater, but that’s not as bad as someone who purposely brings back people’s traumatic memories.”</p><p>“How was I supposed to know you don’t talk about her anymore? When you left and I gave you my house phone number, you never called. Not once. I waited for four goddamn months until Kenma told me to give it up.”</p><p>“She burned the piece of paper, Kuroo.” Daishou unzipped his jacket and lifted his jersey up over his stomach. Kuroo’s eyes widened as he saw the mottled pink and white scar on the right side of Daishou’s abdomen. “And me right after it.”</p><p>“I-” Kuroo was at a loss for words, for once. “I had no idea-”</p><p>“No shit you had no idea.”</p><p>“Is there anything I can do to help?”</p><p>“Yeah, sure, wave a magic wand and get rid of all the physical and emotional scarring.”</p><p>“I’m being serious, Suguru.”</p><p>“Don’t fucking call me that.”</p><p>“I’m being serious. <em>This </em>is serious.”</p><p>“If you wanna help me out, then get the fuck out of my face. I have a game to prepare for. I won, remember?”</p><p>Kuroo couldn’t find it in himself to get pissed off at the snarky remark. “No.”</p><p>“Don’t make me call security on you.”</p><p>“Daishou, listen to me.” There was the tiniest bit of desperation in Kuroo’s voice. “You walked out of my life at six. We meet by chance today-”</p><p>“You purposely bring back memories of <em>her </em>after getting physical with me.”</p><p>“I’m not letting you leave again at sixteen!” Kuroo shouted. “I can help you!”<br/>“By shutting down your savior complex and walking away, yeah.” Despite Daishou’s best efforts, the tears he’d been holding back started to drip down his face. His expression had zero changes in it, and Kuroo was startled by how he was able to remain so emotionless.</p><p>“I’ll come watch your next game.” Kuroo suggested. “Prove that not everything about when you were a kid is terrible.”</p><p>“I’ll skip out on eating and start working out right now so when I play I’ll pass out.” Daishou’s voice had started to get shaky. “I don’t want or need you to play the hero.”</p><p>“You need to stop being so damn self-destructive!”<br/>“You need to stop acting like you know me.” Daishou countered swiftly. “Ten years, Kuroo. I’ve gone ten years without you in my life and I’ve been fine.”</p><p>“There you go again…” Kuroo sighed.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Lying.” He stated. “You’re lying straight through your teeth right to my face.”</p><p>“Stop acting like you know me!” Daishou yelled. “You know nothing! You missed a decade of my life, so quit saying you know how I should live it.”</p><p>“I care about you, Daishou.” Kuroo was frowning. “I want to <em>help </em>you.”</p><p>“You care about the young me. You care about the perfect little boy who you always had to protect. You don’t care about <em>me </em>, you care about your memories of me. Don’t want ‘em tainted by the filthy cheater, right?” Daishou felt his blood run hot as he got worked up. “You want to keep the memories of your childhood so pristine. The fact that you can even try to do that pisses me off. All you have is good memories. A good family, good friends, good grades. I hope to whatever higher power there is that I can ruin some of those memories.”</p><p>“You don’t mean that, Daishou…”</p><p>“Oh, but I do.” Thankfully, Daishou’s tears had stopped falling. “I’m leaving now, I have a game to prepare for.”</p><p>“I’m not letting you leave again. It was your parents’ choice when we were kids. This is the first time I’ve seen you in ages. I don’t want to lose my old friend.”</p><p>“You lost him when he moved away.” Daishou closed his eyes, sighing deeply. “I’m a stranger to you now.” He started to walk away.</p><p>“E-Even if that’s true,” Kuroo stuttered. Daishou stopped dead in his tracks. “That doesn’t mean we can’t change that. I’m watching the game. If you win, we exchange phone numbers.”</p><p>“If I get a game victory, I suffer an immense personal loss?” Daishou repeated Kuroo’s offer in words he felt better described the situation. “No. I’ll throw the game if I have to.”</p><p>“Ambition knows no bounds.”</p><p>“What the <em>fuck </em>did you just say?”</p><p>“When Nohebi passed us, I heard your captain talking about how a ‘snakelike second year’ wanted to have the banner changed to that phrase. You’re that second year, yeah?”</p><p>“It’s a better saying.” Daishou spat. “If fairness and honest play aren’t what you need to win, pick a different strategy. Value winning over anything else. Rework your moral compass so you can replace the desire for truth with a desire for success. Change your play style, develop your game sense. Do anything you can to win.”</p><p>“They’ll make you captain next year.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“With a speech like that, they’ll make you captain.”</p><p>“My team doesn’t like that I cheat.”</p><p>“Well your coach does, or else you wouldn’t be a starter.” Kuroo reasoned. “I’m a future captain, too. So we can meet again under those terms.” Daishou didn’t provide an answer. “Can we get food together?”</p><p>“No.” Daishou turned to leave the empty hall.</p><p>“I’m watching the match.”</p><p>“I’ll throw the match.” He threatened, walking away.</p><p>“No, you won’t. My presence there is a limit. A boundary. But your desire to win is stronger than that. Ambition knows no bounds, Daishou. That’s what you live by.”</p><p>“Goodbye, Tetsurou.” Daishou’s volume was low, so he didn’t know if Kuroo could hear him as he turned the corner and left the black-haired boy alone. The pit in his stomach was still there. He had to clean dried tear tracks off his face before he entered areas with a bunch of people to make his way to the cafeteria. He ate and warmed up in complete silence, unable to take his mind off the conversation. He was in a lose-lose situation. He would either lose the match and kick himself over that, or deal with Kuroo. Daishou really didn’t know which option he’d hate more. The game started, and Nohebi won with a 2-0 score. Of course they did; Nohebi was a talented team. When Daishou walked over with his team to thank the spectators for watching, he caught Kuroo’s eyes. He was beaming down at him, and Daishou responded with a scowl. Just because he had the number didn’t mean he had to do anything with it. He could delete it or block it. Or just leave Kuroo’s potential messages on delivered. And of course, there was the option that Daishou preferred most: book it out of the venue and onto the bus before Kuroo had a chance to find him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this might get a part two as well</p></blockquote></div></div>
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